Scar Tissue
by Blue Lily96
Summary: Jace is running away. Clary saves him from a bunch of muggers, and from then on, they are inseparable. But what is Jace running from? And why does Clary always feel watched? All human. AU. probably OOC. R&R. Story is better than the summary, I promise :P
1. Chapter 1

_Hello! So, for those of you who have read it, you will know that the first half of this story is the beginning to my other story Into Oblivian. This is because I wanted to have a story that was all human, and I actually really liked the way I wrote the beginning to both stories and the idea of a boxing ring which was mentioned (and lied about) in Into Oblivian appealed to me. _

_**NOTE:** this is not the same as Into Oblivian. After the first half, there is another bit that is important and you should read, even if you only skim over the first half (if you have already read before mentioned story)._

_Hope you like it :)_

**Chapter song/s: Californication - Red Hot Chilli Peppers**  
><strong> Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana<strong>  
><strong> Rhiannon - Fleetwood Mac<strong>

**(Yes, this story might be...sort of...well, it _is_ named after the song Scar Tissue by the Red Hot CHilli Peppers. Not only because it is a fantastical song, but I was kinda stumped for ideas.)**

**DISCLAIMER: The Mortal Instruments series belongs to Cassandra Clare, not me. *sigh***

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><p><strong>Scar Tissue<strong>

The guys that surrounded me were ragged looking and smelled like onions. The biggest one had teeth that were rotting in his head, and the knife glinted dangerously in his great paw as he gestured violently at me.

'Give us your wallet,' he growled. My back was pressed against the bricks of the alley and everything was shadowed slightly, like the alley had sucked all light out, leaving only shadows and mould behind. The six guys were fanned out in a ragged semi-circle in front of me. One or two, including the big one, had knives whilst the others just had their fists and sneering faces. Some of them looked no older than me, and the sight of them, rugged and homeless, made something like sadness spark inside me. I didn't let it show on my face.

Slowly, I let my hand drop to my pocket, sliding my empty wallet out of my pocket. The muggers didn't know it, but I had about as much cash as them.

Tomorrow was pay day.

I calmly and silently pulled my liscense from the wallet, sliding it into my back pocket before I tossed it on the ground in front of the muggers.

'It's empty,' I told them honestly as a skinny looking guy darted forward, rifling though the wallet eagerly, his bony shoulders sagging when he realised I was telling the truth.

The big guy growled and took a threatening step forward, thrusting the knife in front of him. I regarded him coolly, even though my entire body was tensed up for the fight I knew was about to come.

'What're you playin' at, you little shit?' He grunted, sending a waft of sour smelling breath in my direction. I blinked in apparent offense.

'Now now, no need to swear, there could be children around.'

The big guy growled again and suddenly lunged forward, fists outstretched, the knife slashing wildly. I ducked swiftly to the side, so swiftly in fact that he slammed into the brick wall with a surprised shout. I didn't even have time to laugh. The other six guys were on me, fists and legs flying as they tried to land a hit.

None of them succeeded and within three minutes, at least three of them were lying groaning on the ground. The other four - big guy included - hesitated for a moment.

'Come on then,' I taunted. 'Or is it too much for you? Perhaps I should tie my hands behind my back, make it even.'

Cliched maybe, but it worked.

The remaining four charged as one and we were at it all over again. I twisted the big guy's wrist, sending his knife flying and followed it up with an elbow to the chin. He flew backwards with the force of it, stone cold, but I had already turned my attention to the others. It seemed that they would be following their unconscious mates, when a flash of bright red caught the corner of my eye and I was distracted. I faltered, and that slight hesitation was all the mugger needed. His fist rushed clumsily towards my face, I twisted, but his leather covered knuckles slammed across my temple, sending me spinning dizzily to the side. Shock surged through me. I struggled to regain my balance through the pain in my head and turned to the muggers, only to see a blur of red and blue and white attacking them fiercely.

Pain exploded through the side of my head as I tried to step forward. Damn, that guy had got me good. I staggered, reaching out a hand to steady myself against the wall just as the last mugger dropped to the ground like a sack of bricks and his attacker turned to face me.

To say I was shocked by what I saw was an understatment.

The person who stood before me was about five foot nothing, pale with rich red hair that danced in curls around her face. Yes, _her_ face. And she was possibly the most beautiful girl I had ever seen or ever will see.

And right now, that girl's face was creased with worry. At me. I swayed on my feet, wanting to say something, but my mouth felt like it was full of cotton.

'Whoa, there,' the girl said, rushing forward to grasp my elbow. Goose-bumps raced up my arm, along with a spark of heat and I heard her gasp, dropping my arm like it burned her and I knew she felt it too.

I gaped at the girl, before her raised eyebrows stunned some sense into me. I closed my mouth with a snap, along with my eyes (without the snap) and leaned against the wall.

'I'm fine,' I muttered, suddenly furious with myself. Where had smooth, sarcastic Jace Lightwood gone? Oh, that's right, he was knocked out with the rest of the muggers, leaving this stumbling fool behind.

'I don't think you are,' the girl said doubtfully, her fingers on my arm again, and then I felt them skimming across the side of my head. I could feel a kind of wetness trickling down the side of my cheek. I didin't answer her, just focused on not throwing up.

'Look, I think you have concussion.' The girl was speaking again and I forced myself to listen. 'Um, can you walk?'

'Uh...I think so,' I murmured, taking a single step away from the wall. Immediately, dizziness and nausea rushed through me and before I knew it, my breakfast was lying on the pavement below me. I heard the girl gasp, felt hands on my back, but the world was bucking ferociously, sending me flying through the air and falling through the earth until I gave in completely to oblivion.

O.o

'Oh shivers,' Clary gasped as the golden haired boy sagged forward, his entire body crumpling to the ground in an unconscious heap. Darting forward, she managed to catch his elbow, preventing his head from smacking against the hard New York pavement.

Side-stepping the vomit the boy had left on the ground, Clary manouvered herself so that she could see his face properly, and gently slapped his cheek.

'Wake-up!' she said desperately, pulling him along the ground until his head and shoulder rested in her lap, the blood from his head wound dripping through his hair and onto her jeans.

When he didn't stir, Clary pulled her phone from her pocket, dialling a number that was as familiar to her as her own.

He answered on the third ring, his breath coming out in pants that filled her ear-piece with static. He must have just come from a sparring session.

'Hello?'

'Simon!' Clary half shouted. 'I need you to come get me. There was this boy and some muggers and then he puked and I can't wake him up and - '

'Clary!' Simon shouted, breaking up her muddled rant. 'Take a breath, slow down, and say again.'

Clary did as she was told, forcing her muddled thoughts into some semblance of order.

'I need you to come get me. I'm in an alley way, on forty-fifth st. There's a boy - he was attacked by some muggers and now he's unconscious.'

She heard Simon exhale a sharp breath, and listened as the distant sounds of the boxing ring faded completely.

'Alright, Clary, I'll be there in five.'

'Thanks, Simon,' Clary breathed in relief and hung up the phone, turning her attention back to the boy in her lap. She needed to move him out further, so Simon would be able to find them. Clary stood up, carefully tucking her hands under his arms and lifting him into a semi-sitting position. Grunting, Clary managed to pull his arm around her shoulders, so he leant against her, gold head lolling on his chest. The boy groaned, his eyelids fluttering and Clary just hoped he would wake up so she could get his dead weight off her.

It wasn't that he was over-weight or anything - quite the opposite in fact. The boy was tall and lean, strong looking muscles covered by soft skin and winding, celtic looking tattoos.

'Come on,' she muttered. 'Wake up. Please wake up.'

The boy groaned again, and finally his eyelids flickered open, exposing the intensely gold irises beneath. He lifted his head, wincing in pain and looked at her in surprise, his eyes bleary and unfocused.

'What the - ' he began but Clary was pulling him forward, having spotted Simon pulling up in his beat-up van.

'Come on,' she said gently, and tugged him towards the car, his arm still wrapped around her shoulders. Simon jumped out of the van, leaving it idling at the curb and ran to drape the boy's other arm around his shoulders, taking the load from Clary.

Running forward, Clary wrenched the van open, helping Simon get the boy into the back-seat of the car. He lay down, his eyes closed again, but she knew he was at least semi-conscious by the fact that he was mumbling under his breath.

Clary shifted so that his head was in her lap again, telling herself it was because she didn't want him rolling off the seat.

When she leaned in to try and hear what it was he was mumbling, Clary realised it was a long and colourful string of profanities that would have made even a sailor blush.

She smirked.

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><p><em>So, what'd you guys think? Remember, it will be different to Into Oblivian, not just a human version.<em>

_Read and review and you might get a teaser for the next chapter!...you know, once I actually write it..._

_Blue._


	2. Chapter 2

_Hullo! So, here's the second chapter and - it's long. Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing is up to you guys. I just kept writing and couldn't seem to stop. It was scary :P But, it's all in Jace's POV. ;)_

_Just remember that I really love reviews *hint hint nudge nudge*_

**NOTE**: _I made a mistake in the first chapter: Jace refers to himself as Lightwood but in this story he has never met the Lightwoods (yet) and his last name is...well, you're just going to have wait and find out, aren't you?_

**DISCLAIMER: Cassandra Clare owns the Mortal Instruments series. Not me.**

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><p>I wasn't really aware of much, except that something was holding my shoulder, and another something was pressed lightly against my forehead, warm and strangley comforting through the pain that radiated through my skull. These two things, and the constant stream of whispered obscenties that spewed from my mouth were the only things tethering me to consciousness.<p>

The warm thing against my foreead moved softly down to my cheek, and after a moment, I realised it was somebody's hand. As I realised this, I became aware of a low, rumbling noise that stopped very suddenly. Forcing myself to open my eyes, my vision was filled with wide green eyes that stared down at me with concern and bright red hair that was everywhere.

I frowned, my thoughts still foggy. The girl's mouth was moving, but I felt like my ears had been stuffed with cotton wool. She shifted, her hands moving to hold me around my shoulders - it was then that I realised my head was in her lap. Interesting.

Another face was pushed into my view, a male one, with dorky looking glasses and messy hair. I blinked very slowly, forcing my fuzzy feeling mind to just focus. Sounds broke abruptly through my ears, flooding me with a medley of noises. The honking of cars, wind whipping through the air, but especially one word, one terrifying word that fell from the girl's mouth and landed around my ears like a clap of thunder: _hospital_.

No. A hospital meant giving my name. Meant keeping records, laying down a trail. I couldn't. I was a ghost now. It was how I survived.

With an agility that surprised even me, especially in my injured state, I leapt from the girl's lap, launching myself towards the car door.

'Wait!' I heard the girl cry behind me, but I was grappling for the door handle. I couldn't go to the hospital, he'd find me. I couldn't let him find me.

Someow, I managed to stumble out of the van and onto the pavement outside the hospital before I felt a hand fist in my shirt.

'Wait, please!' I heard the girl call, holding me back. Something in her voice gave me pause. I blamed it on my probable concussion.

'We're just trying to help you! Not kidnap you or anything, I promise!'

Her words made me turn around, and I smirked through the throbbing in my head. I found it amusing that she would come to that conclusion.

'I wasn't worried about you kidnapping me, I can't go to the hospital, little girl.'

The girl's posture stiffened as soon as the words "little girl" fell from my mouth and I saw idignation flash through her eyes. She took a step back, her chin raised defiantly.

'My name is not "little girl",' she said through gritted teeth. 'It's Clary. And, yes, you can go to the hospital. And you will. Because you were knocked out in an alley-way and your head is bleeding. If you don't get checked up, there is a very high chance that you will die.'

Oh, she was fiesty. I liked it. Or at least, I would have liked it if my stomach weren't churning and my head didn't feel like it was about to split in half.

'Look, little girl - '

'It's Clary!' She interjected furiously.

' - Hospitals aren't my thing.' I continued as if she hadn't spoken, wiping my face clean of all expression.

'And death is?' She inquired sarcastically. I rolled my eyes.

'Funnily enough, it's not that high up on my list either. Which is exactly why I choose not to go to the hospital.'

She looked at me curiously then, her green eyes narrowing thoughtfully, her curly hair bouncing around her cheeks. I pretty much had to force myself not to think about how beautiful the strange girl looked at that moment. It was also at that moment that it dawned on me. This girl was helping me, had helped me. She had saved me from the muggers, tried to bring me to the hospital. To help me. A perfect stranger.

Basically, I was indebted to her.

Shit.

Clary was still looking at me with that curious look on her face, like she was studying me very closely. It made me uncomfortable. That coupled with my aching head was not improvinng my mood at all.

'Why won't you go to the hospital?' She demanded, her eyes hardening slightly. I saw a glimmer of mistrust dance across her face before it smoothed back into curiosity. God, she was so strange! I didn't answer her, just continued to glare through the pounding of my head, focusing on keeping my knees straight.

The kid with the glasses came up behind Clary, his eyes narrowed at me cautiously. He looked like a nerdy gamer, with his glasses sitting slightly askew on the bridge if his nose and the gamer tee on his chest but he moved lithely, like a fighter.

'Clary,' I heard him mutter. 'If the guy doesn't want to go to the hospital let's just go. You're habit of picking up crazy people is beginning to worry me.'

Clary rolled her eyes and glanced at the boy behind her witheringly. It almost made me laugh, but I had the sneaking suspicion that any such action would cause me to vomit.

Just then, a new expression morphed her features into something that made me imagine a lightbulb flashing above her head.

'Look,' she said, taking a step toward me, a small smile playing at te eges of her mouth. 'Why don't you not go to the hospital and come with us instead? We know a guy who can fix you up probably better than any doctor in there.'

'Clary!' The Dork said in alarm, glaring at the red-headed girl. She ignored him, her green gaze set stubbornly on me, practically daring me to refuse. In the end, it was the constant pounding in my head that made the decision for me. I glared at the girl for a moment before I felt a spark of amusement. She was interesting - not many people could get me to do as I was told. Let alone strange red-headed girl's who I didn't know.

'Fine.' I said. 'I'll go. Simply becaue your Dork over there seems to want me so much.'

The Dork in question scowled behind his glasses, but with a forceful look from Clary, he refrained from saying anything, choosing instead to stomp back towards the waiting van,slamming the driver's door behind him. Clary grinned mischeviously before following him, without another word to me.

I stared after her for a moment, my eyebrows raised before dragging myself over to the van and stretching out on the back seat, glaring up at the roof of the van.

'Don't fall asleep,' Clary called warningly from the front seat. I rolled my eyes and grunted, to out of it to come up with a witty quip.

Needless to say, the conversation inside the van was what I would call strained.

O.o

The Dork - or Simon, as I soon found out his name was - finally pulled into a small parking lot behind a dingy looking cafe, the word _Taki's_ written in flurescent red flickering above the entry way. I recognised it from my many wanderings, but had never stepped foot inside.

Slowly, I rose from my seat, forcing myself not to wince at the resulting spike of pain that shot through my temple and down my spine.

'So this miracle worker of a doctor works in a crappy cafe? Isn't that kind of skirting the Helath and Safety regulations?'

'Hey!' Clary exclaimed hopping from the van and glaring at him indignantly. 'This is not a crappy cafe, thank you very much. I happen to work here.'

'Oh? And does that make it suddenly amazing?'

'Yes,' she answered blithely. 'But I thought that was obvious. Now, unless you want to pass out and die, follow me.'

Slowly, he lowered himself from the car. Clary caught his hesitation and her fierce gaze softened as she moved towards him, away from her friend who stood a little ways away, glaring.

'Are you alright?' She asked me, concern etched into her features. Her hand hesitated in air around my bicep, as if she wanted to touch but wasn't sure if she should.

'Oh, honey, I am more than all right.' I gestured down at myself, indicating just how amazing I was. 'Much, much more than all right.'

Clary rolled her eyes and pulled away from me, but not before I saw the slight lifting of her cheeks, like she fighting a smirk.

'Well, hurry up.'

I followed her and the Dork to a back door that led to a very noisy kitchen. A large, grizzly guy with tattoos covering every inch of skin stood flipping pancakes on a stove and humming. The sight was so contradicting I almost laughed. A girl with ridiculously blonde hair and seven inch heels wobbled in, shouting out customer's orders to the guy at the stove. He nodded, not discontinuing his humming or flipping.

The blonde girl's eyes fell on Clary, then on the Dork, and finally settled on me, her lip-stick covered mouth turning down appreciatively at the corners. Well, it was good to see that even covered in blood, concussed and broke, I hadn't lost my touch.

'Who's the guy?' Blonde Girl asked Clary. Clary opened her mouth to speak then closed it abruptly, a small furrow beginning between her copper brows. I realised I hadn't even told her my name.

'He's an ass, that's who he is,' she said in the end and I smirked at her descicive tone. 'Where's Magnus?'

Blonde Girl rolled her eyes, picking up a food laden tray and balancing it expertly along her forearm. 'He had a hissy fit before. Something about getting pancake batter on his pants. I dont know, I was working. He's either up-stairs sulking or in the ring.'

Clary nodded and turned away, her small hand wrapping around my wrist. A shot of warmth sparked up my arm, causing goose-bumps to form but this time, Clary didn't move away.

'Thanks Kaelie,' she called over her shoulder to the Blonde Girl, already leading me through the kitchen.

'Your shift starts at six!' The blonde girl - Kaelie - shouted by way of reply. Clary groaned but didnt stop moving. Eventually, she brought me to a door that opened up to a flight of stairs.

She turned to the Dork.

'Simon, can you go check if Magnus is up stairs? If he is, grab him for me and tell him to meet me in the sick bay. If he's not, don't worry about it.'

Simon rolled his eyes but obeyed, running up the stairs as we walked down. I stumbled a little just as we reached the bottom and her hand tightened around my wrist, concern flashing through her eyes.

'I'm fine,' I muttered. She dropped my wrist and opened the door, stepping silently inside. I followed her, and entered the very last thing I expected.

I stood inside a large, sweat smelling, slightly smoky, softly lit boxing ring. There were people sparring in the rings situated around the room, others doing push-ups, crunches, pull-ups, and skipping rope faster than my eyes could follow.

A boy about my age came up in front of Clary, his hair plastered to his head with sweat that also dotted his brow. He had a towel draped over his bare shoulder and he grinned when he saw Clary.

'Ready for a spar, Little One?' He asked her playfully. Clary rolled her eyes, the look in her eyes making me think that whoever the boy was, he called her "Little One" often enough for her to no longer care.

She punched him in the shoulder and he faked hurt, clutching his shoulder.

'Shut up,' she said, shaking her head, a small grin playing on her lips. 'I need Magnus. Is he here?'

'Yeah,' the guy said slowly, his eyes finally falling on me. 'Looks like you got hit pretty bad there.' He said ot me, nodding toward my temple.

'You should have seen the other guys,' I replied, in all seriousness. The guy smirked until Clary pipped up,

'No, really, Jordan. You should have. There were about seven and he floored about four of them in three minutes.'

Jordan's eyebrows rose and he sent an apprasing look in my direction. 'Well there you go,' I heard him mutter. Then he turned his attention back to Clary.

'Magnus is in the sick bay,' he told her. She smiled in thanks and pulled me away, leading me through the gym. A couple of people stopped what they were doing to stare at us, but I ignored them, my ability to stand upright slowly ebbing away.

Before I knew it, Clary had pushed me inside a clean, white room that had at least three beds lined up along the wall, and a bench littered with various medcial intruments. At the bench stood a tall, bean-pole thin man wearing the bightest, loudest, most glittery clothes I had ever seen.

His balck hair was spiked up on his head, glittering with every turn, and blue lipstick covered his mouth, while bright blue eyeshadow caked his eyes. His eyes were like cat's, slit pupil, bright green eyes. I figured they must be contacts.

Basically, the guy looked like a gay Sonic the Hedgehog.

'Magnus!' Clary exclaimed in relief. He turned to her, his eyes brows raised in question. She obliged accordingly.

'This,' she said, 'is an ass. And he's probably got concussion. Can you help him?'

'My name's Jace actually,' I interrupted, smirking at Clary. 'You could have just asked me what it was, instead of feeling the need to refer to my arse all the time. I mean, I know it's fantastic, but I barely know you.'

Clary frowned. 'I wasn't talking about your ass. I was calling you a donkey.'

Ok, I had to laugh at that. She grinned and turned back to the sparkly guy - Magnus - who was looking at both of us with a rasied eyebrow.

'He looks fine to me,' Magnus said.

'Don't encourage him,' she snapped. 'Look, he was attacked in an alley by a bunch of muggers. One clipped him on the side of the head and he started puking everywhere, almost immediately. Then he was unconscious for about five, maybe six minutes. And he keeps stumbling. Honestly, you look more than a bit faint.' The last bit is directed at me. I shrugged but when Magnus ordered me to lie down on the bed, I obeyed without hesitation.

He shone a torch in my eyes, tsking. He stuck things in my ears, wiped the blood from my head, fingers probing the tender flesh of my temple. I hissed and instinctively jerked my head away. Magnus pulled back, regarding me thoughtfully.

'How long has it been since you've eaten?'

His question caught me by surprise and I frowned.

'Why does it matter?'

'Becuase I am the doctor and when I ask a question, it usually matters. So, answer the question or I'll stab you with a needle.'

I heard Clary snort somewhere in the background. I turned to see that she was sitting on the bed next to mine, looking much too happy. 'He means it,' Clary warned. 'I know from experience.'

Turning back to Magnus, I shrugged, trying to think back to my last meal. 'I don't know, a day? Maybe two?'

I heard Clary's almost inaudible gasp beside me but I refused to look at her, suddenly uncomfortale with having her in the same room as me while I talked about my...uh...situation. I actually thought it was longer than that. Almost four days, I reckoned.

'Why?' Magnus probed, looking at me intently. I glared back, not liking the interrogation.

'Because I decided fasting would be fun,' I said sarcastically. 'Why do you think?'

'I thought as much. Your concussion isn't that bad, but without the right nutrients...well, you've been pretty knocked around.' I looked away, clenching my jaw.

'Ok, so, what now?' I said insolently.

'Now, I'll give you some paracetomol to help with the pain and Clary will bring you down some food. Won't you Clary?'

'Uh, sure,' she said looking at Magnus and then at me. 'What would you like?'

I considered making a witty remark then decided I was too tired.

'Sweet-potato chips would be good,' I said, a sudden craving for the delicious treats making my hollow stomach ache in anticipation. Clary grinned and got up from the bed.

'Coming right up,' she said before waltzing out of the sick bay and disappearing out of sight. Magnus passed me two little paracetomols and plastic cup filled with water, I took them gratefully, swallowing them then turning my attention back to the sparkly man.

'Where have you been living, Jace?' Magnus asked me seriously, moving to sit on the bed Clary had vacated.

I immidiately stiffened, not like the question. This was exactly what I didn't want to happen. Laying down roots, having poeple know my story.

'Around,' was my answer. Magnus looked at me with the same thoughtful expression.

'Why did Clary bring you here?' He asked, not pushing his earlier question and my evasive answer. I was surprised by his question, this time answering with a fair bit more solidarity.

'I didn't want to go to the hospital.'

Magnus nodded, as if this was the answer he had expected, which definitely confused me. Why would he expect me to not want to go to the hospital? Where was I anyway? God, this was not my day. Or my week come to think of it. Or maybe I could just say that my entire life has just been one shitty day after another. Yep, that sounded a lot more accurate.

'Why do you think Clary brought you here?' Magnus asked me. I blinked.

'Because she didn't want me to "pass out and die"?' It came out like a question, but internally I laughed at what she had said to me earlier.

'She brought you here because of what you are, and what you have.'

'Oh?' I questioned, arching an eyebrow. 'And what's that?'

'Nothing. You have nothing. At the moment you are nobody, barely a name to a face. And that's why Clary brought you here. She knew, as soon as you refused to enter that hospital that you were someone desperate, and alone. That you were sick, and hungry. She knew you have nothing. Just like everybody else who first comes to this place, you have nothing.'

His words dried up any sarcastic comments I may have been about to spout.

_You have nothing._

It was true. I did have nothing. I was completely alone. The job I'd taken a few weeks ago was barely enough to scrape in enough cash for more than a few groceries and a crappy hotel room.

But that's what happens when you run. It takes everything from you.

All you have is your survival and in the long run, even that starts to ebb away.

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><p><em>Ok, so a bit of a dodgy ending but...meh. I needed to wrap it up somehow, didn't I? What did you guys think of the boxing ring beneath Taki's? I know the characters are kind of OOC but it can't be helped.<em>

_I think in the next chapter we'll meet the owner. No prizes for guessing who it is, but you can if you like. In fact, if you mention it in a review, I'll give you a teaser and...yeah that's all I've got :P_

_Blue._


	3. Chapter 3

_Aren't you all just so lucky? Two updates in as many days? Forgive me for any mistakes though, it's late. _

**DISCLAIMER: I own the plot and any additional characters that happen to jump forth from my imagination. Everything else belongs to Ms Cassandra Clare.**

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><p>Clary was distracted. Her mind kept wandering back towards the strange blonde-haired boy sleeping in the sick-bay downstairs. It was twelve o'clock at night and she was nearing the end of her shift, the steady stream of customers finally slowing down. She hated doing night shifts, but Taki, the owner and chef of the cafe, insisted upon having it open late on weekend nights. And she didn't disagree with him - whatever brought the cash in, right? She just wished she didn't have the night shift <em>every weekend<em>.

Her thoughts drifted back to Jace as she clipped the slip of paper to the order reel and tapped the bell to alert Taki. He was so intriguing, unlike anyone esle she had ever brought here. His gold eyes were both animated and distant at the same time, the mischevious glint that never left always making her think that he was laughing at everyone and everything.

She wondered idly what his story was, the reason why he went without food. Clary could guess, god knows she had seen enough cases since she had moved in with Luke after her mother...well, it was best not to think about it. In fact, Clary had grown up with the kids that were brought in off the streets of New York. They were her family.

Her really huge, really dysfunctional family.

And she wondered if maybe they had all had just gained another member? Sighing again, Clary forced Jace from her thoughts, wondering how someone she didn't even know properly could have such a ridiculous effect on her. What was her problem? Was she turning into some sort of obessed stalker lady? She hoped not. Simon would never let her live it down.

Deciding it would make her feel better, Clary blamed it on her unsatiable curiosity.

Against her will, her thoughts traveled back to earlier that day, when she had returned to Jace with the requested sweet-potato chips. He had grinned like a kid at Christmas and all but inhaled the meal. Clary hadn't laughed, she'd seen too many hungry people in her life to find amusement in it. Once he'd finshed, he had stared at his empty plate for a long time, a small frown worrying his forehead. She had thought he was still hungry. He'd told her no, that wasn't it.

Then he had leapt from the bed, his hair mussed, looking to Clary, in that frenzied moment, like a caged lion, his wide, gold eyes glaring back at her, a hard mask slipping over his features.

'I have to go,' he had growled, retreating back towards the door. Clary had jumped up, unable to let him go.

'Wait a sec,' she burst out, holding up a hand to stop him. To her surprise he hesitated, looking between her and the door and back again. Taking a breath, Clary said,

'You don't have to leave. I mean, you can if you want but - Magnus wants you to rest. At least stay here long enough for it to be safe for you to go, especially with that concussion. Please?'

Jace had hesitated for a moment longer, before slowly moving back to his bed, his gold gaze everywhere but Clary's face. She, however, couldn't look away from him, his restless energy coming off of him in waves, the purple and blue bruise that stretched across his temple and ghosted the beginning of his slanted cheekbone in severe contrast with the light gold tones of his skin.

When he lay back down on the bed, Clary let out the breath she had not realised she had been holding. Still, he did not look at her, his face the same hard mask, his fists clenched at his sides. Swallowing, Clary had stood up from her bed, gathering his abandoned plate into her hands.

'I've got to start my shift,' she said awkwardly, moving to stand by the door. 'Uh, get some rest. It might make you feel better.'

Just as she turned to slip out the door, the gold-eyed boy had surprised her once again by looking at her straight in the eyes, a small smirk playing at the edges of his mouth.

'Have a good night then,' he said. Clary felt suddenly flustered, not sure if he was being sarcastic or not. His gaze was heavy on her and she barely threw out an "Um, thanks," before ducking out of the sick-bay, cursing herself for being such a bumbling fool.

A tap on her shoulder snapped Clary out of her reverie and she turned to see a very tired looking Luke staring at her with an amused smiled on his face.

'If Taki finds out you've been phasing out whilst serving cutsomers again, he'll fire you.'

Clary grinned, and, ignoring the customers she was supposed to be serving back out in the cafe proper, she threw her arms around her guardian's neck and hugged him hard. He laughed and hugged her back, but he sounded weary. He was alway like this when he came back; tired, sad and beaten-down. Clary understood. She just wished so wasn't so much of a coward and would go with him.

But she couldn't. She just...couldn't.

Sighing, she let go of Luke and forced the smile back onto her face. He caught her change in mood anyway but seemed to realise that just now, she didn't want to talk about it.

'How is everyone?' He asked her, stepping back a little.

Clary nodded, her thoughts moving back to Jace and the confusion he ensued. 'Yeah, everyone's good. We've got a new guy.'

Luke's eyebrows raised. 'Oh?'

Clary nodded but before she could reply, she caught Taki's shaking head in the kitchen and she grinned. Luke and Taki were brothers, but couldn't be more different. Where Luke was stocky and bookish, and ran the boxing ring downstairs, Taki was huge and tattooed and the best cook Clary had ever met. Clary always found the contrast in their interests hilarious.

'I'll tell you later. I've got a bit to go before my shift ends. Because I love my job and I would not like to lose it!' She added the last bit loudly and Taki grinned at her from the kitchen.

Luke laughed and nodded his head, moving back through the kitchen to meet his brother.

Clary took a deep breath turned again, glancing at her watch just as the tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose, a tingling feeling shooting up her spine. Someone was watching her but she turned in a full circle, her eyes searching, she saw nobody's eyes on her, not even the waiting customers.

Frowning, Clary shook the feeling off and stepped back out into the cafe proper. She only had fifteen minutes to go.

O.o

When I woke up in the sick-bay I nearly had a heart attack. Leaning over me, right in my face, was a giant, sparkling blob. As my sleeping eyes focused, I realised it was Magnus's head, his eyebrows drawn into a frown.

'Jesus-bloody-Christ,' I breathed, barely stopping myself from shooting upright. Magnus drew away, his cat eyes regarding me impassively. 'Close,' he said, 'but not quite.' He didn't stop staring at me.

'Look,' I said, pulling myself up into a sitting position, 'I understand that I am stunningly attractive, and many people find it difficult to keep their eyes from me, but please, could you try and restrain yourself, just a little?'

Magnus quirked an eyebrow.

'Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.'

I grinned. 'Good thing I wasn't being sarcastic then.'

Just then, our banter was interupted by a certain red-headed girl tumbling loudly inside. Her foot must have caught on something because she was falling forward, arms failing, hair everywhere, before she managed to catch herself against the wall. Steading herself, she huffed the hair from her face and glared at both Magnus and I, as if we were personally to blame for her clumsiness.

'Shut up,' she muttered, edging forward.

I felt myself begin to smirk and it widened as her scowl deepened.

'I didn't say anything.' I turned to Magnus. 'Did you say anything?'

His eyes held amusement as she regarded Clary thoughtfully. 'No, I didn't say anything.'

Clary narrowed her eyes at both of us. 'You didn't have to,' she mumbled, plonking herself down on the bed next to mine. She lay on her back, knees hanging over the egde of the bed, eyes facing the ceiling.

'Good to see you're awake,' She said, tilting her slightly to the side and glancing down her body to look at me. I grinned at her tone that definitely suggested otherwise.

'Yes, well, I'm not one to disappoint.'

She turned to Magnus. 'How is he?'

Magnus shrugged and looked at both of us. 'Well, considering he isn't dead, I'd say he's doing pretty well.'

'So, am I free to go?' I asked, already swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.

Magnus rolled his eyes. 'Yes. But if you feel faint or dizzy come straight back.'

'Sure,' I said, even though I knew I wouldn't. I began to walk out the door then hesitated, feeling awkward. What an unusual sensation.

'Thanks, I guess,' I said and walked out the door, wondering at my own stupidity. I began to make my way throug the already bustling gym when I heard quick steps behind me, and then a small presence by my side. I didn't look down, I already knew who it would be.

'So are you leaving now?' She asked me, and I didn't miss the small trace of disappointment in her tone. Hmmm.

I shrugged, surpised at how I reluctant I atually felt to leave the small red-head.

'Probably. I've got to pick up my pay, and get some clothes that aren't blood-stained and reek of thugs and concrete.'

I looked down at her as she scrunched her nose slightly. 'You do stink,' she agreed. I feigned shock.

'You've been smelling me now?'

Clary snorted, and reached for the door that led to the flight of stairs.

'I don't have to,' she said, pushing through the door, 'You reek so bad it's practically coming off you in waves.'

I followed her up the stairs, grinning quietly to myself, while my reluctance to leave grew steadily. But she was right. I did reek.

She stopped just outside the kitchen door, brow furrowed. 'Do you want to take that shirt off?'

I raised my eyebrows. 'Well, you certainly don't beat around the bush, do you? Don't worry, I don't mind that.' I winked at her suggestively and watched in amusement as the blood rushed to her face and she spluttered,

'Not like that! I meant - I mean - I thought that you...' She paused, took a breath, and tried again. 'I _meant_, would you like a change of shirt so that people aren't repelled by your stink?'

I grinned despite the insult and nodded. She let her breath out loudly and ran up the stairs, indicating for me to follow. We reached the top, and were stopped by a door that was identical to the one downstairs, only this one had a lock on it.

'Wait here,' she said firmly, and pulled a key from her pocket, opened the door, and slipped inside, closing the door in my face. I smirked at the wood of the door. That girl was strange all right, and intriguing. I couldn't seem to keep my mind off of her. Something about her wide greem eyes, so open and honest...

The door was flung open once more and Clary re-appeared, this time with a folded piece of black material in her hands.

'Come on,' she said, thrusting what I supposed was the shirt into my hand. 'You can get changed in the bathroom downstairs if you like.'

As she led me back down the stairs, through the clanging kitchen and directed me towards the bathrooms, I wondered why on Earth I was still here. How was it possible that a single girl whom I barely even knew could make me disregard all the rigid rules I had set up for myself, the rules that had allowed me to survive? I remembered last night, after she had brought me those chips, I had been about to leave, about to leave her and everything and carrying on with my floating existance until she said_ please _and looked at me with those wide, worried eyes. Why the hell did she do that? Needless to say, I'd caved. Arrogant, strong, untouchable me had caved when a single girl had looked at me! That wasn't what was supposed to happen. Girls caved for me. Not the other way round.

I slipped inside the bathroom and gripped the sink with my hands, forcing my thoughts away from her. I studied my appearance to try and distract myself. It worked, for the most part. There was a massive bruise on my temple, turning my flesh a few attractive shades of purple and blue, with a small cut in the center. My face was pale and gaunt and blood was matted in my hair, making it hang in tangled clumps around my ear.

Grimacing, I pulled my shirt off and splashed water over my face and through my hair, trying my best to rid it of my dried blood. It took long enough, and by the time I was finished, I had manged to yank out more hair than was probably healthy.

Using the paper towels provided, I dried off my face and pulled the black shirt Clary had given me over my head. It was a bit tight across the shoulders, but at least it was long enough. I looked down and realised it was a slogan shirt with the words _If you can read this, you can read_, written across the front. Funny, I had one the exact same. It was my only slogan T-shirt and as far as I was concerned, would remain so.

My stomach rumbled. It seemed that after last night's meal, I had lost the ability to fend off hunger pains. I made way back out into the cafe, taking my time to take in my surroundings. The cafe was nice, really light and warm, considering the windows were so small. Old-fashioned booths lined the walls while polished floating wood floors gleamed beneath my feet. Clary had been right yesterday when she had said that it wasn't a crappy cafe. It just_ looked _crappy from the outside. If you asked me, that wasn't the best advertising scheme.

My eyes fell on Clary, who was sitting in a booth in the corner frowning at her hands as she twisted them together on the table. I wondered what was up. Slowly, I made my way over, sliding into the seat opposite, not saying anything.

She looked up, her face clearing almost completely of the frown she had worn only seconds before and smiled.

'Oh good, the shirt fits. Sort of.'

'Yeah,' I said, glancing down at the shirt for a moment. When I looked back at her, she was studying me carefully, a small furrow between her brows.

'So, Jace, what's your story?'

I blinked but did not answer. No way was I going to answer. Clary gave me the same curious expression she had given me yesterday when I had refused to go to the hospital, her eyes glinting with something I was unable to read.

'Are you a criminal?' She asked me suddenly, looking way too innocent. I chuckled despite myself. A criminal? Not quite.

When I didn't answer she tried again.

'Witness protection?'

Nowhere near.

'A prince from a far away land, fleeing the confines of royal life to experience "real life"?'

Hmm, getting closer. Although at this point, I was beginning to question Clary's sense of reality. I told her so and she just grinned wickedly, her eyes glittering.

She tapped her chin thoughtfully as she looked at me and she said the words I had been both dreading and anticipating at the same time.

'You're a runaway.'

I felt as if her gaze were shooting right through me, and I was laid bare, just for a moment, before I was able to collect myself and slide my mask back into place.

'You are, aren't you?' she said, her voice surprisingly soft, a tinge of sadness darkening her delicate features. Slowly, silently, I nodded and she leaned back, looking sadder than ever. 'I thought so.' She didn't look away from me and I felt uncomfortable under her gaze, like if she continued to just look at me like that, I'd blurt out everything I had tried so had to repress.

'Why?' Her voice was a breath. I shook my head, my fingers curling in on themselves.

'I don't think you want to know, Clary.' My voice was cold and I hated myself for it. I didn't want to make her feel bad I just...Sometimes anger and other such emotions are the only way you can keep together. But Clary didn't look hurt, she just nodded her head, like she understood.

Silence ensued, and though it wasn't awkward exactly, it felt kind of...gloomy. Clary looked...gloomy. I felt...gloomy. And I thought that maybe it was becuase I knew I had to leave and for the strangest reason, I didn't want to.

But I was a ghost now, and that's what ghosts like me did.

'Food?' She asked suddenly and I brightened a little. At least until I realised I had no money. She caught my look and added quickly, 'you don't have to pay. On the house.'

Immediately, I stiffened, my fist clenching slightly on the table. 'I don't need your charity,' I snapped harshly. Clary blushed, but she looked indignant, angry almost.

'It's not charity,' she snapped back. 'I told you yesterday that I work here. In fact I _live_ here. The chef's my uncle...of sorts...so he makes me my breakfast anyway, if I ask very nicely.'

I didn't care, I didn't want to take something without paying for it. Call it a pride-thing, call it stupid, I don't care, I wasn't going to take something for nothing.

'No thanks, Clary,' I said, my voice still coming out a little harshly. She didn't even flinch and I suddenly wondered how many people like me she had met. 'I need to go.'

I started to get up when I felt a little bit of pressure on my wrist. I paused, looking at her and then at where her small fingers were pressed against my wrist, not restraining but almost pleading. The look on her face, however, was anything but pleading. It was determined.

'Look,' she said, her tone reasoning, calming. 'I understand what you're feeling. In all honesty, I would probably do the same thing so I'll offer you a deal. So sit down and listen or leave and go hungry. Choice is yours, Jace.'

I didn't want to give in, I didn't want to sit back down and listen to whaever she had to say but then I thought back to last night. She'd saved my life, given me food and got me medical attention. If I left now, that really would be taking something for nothing.

Crap.

With a loud and obnoxious sigh, I sat back heavily in my seat with glaring bad grace. Clary retracted her hand, looking mildly amused. I scowled, I didn't like being laughed at.

'All right, what's your deal?' I demanded angrily. Clary rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath. 'What was that?'

She looked me directly in the eyes and said, 'I said, of course I picked the cockiest, asshatiest, most stubborn runaway to pick up from an alley-way.'

I cocked an eyebrow, smirking. 'Asshatiest?' I repeated incredulously.

Clary rolled her eyes. 'Yes. Asshatiest. A way of describing somebody who is an asshat of massive proportions. I.e., you.'

'I've never been called an asshat before,' I mused. Clary gave me a disbelieving look but, it seemed, she couldn't resist making another comment.

'Yes you have. Just now. By me. So that statement is completely incorrect, isn't it?' She let out an impatient huff of breath and flopped back against her seat. I grinned, pleased that I was able to irritate her so much. 'So, are you going to continue being an asshat or are you going to listen to me?'

'Any chance I could do both?' I asked, just to see how far I could push her. Her reaction was to just glare at me, lips pressed into a thin, hard line.

I laughed aloud, lifting up my hands and said, 'Fine. What are you suggesting?'

Clary sighed. 'I talked to Luke last night, and he said you're welcome to stay. If you want to. You can work here, use the gym downstairs and we'll give you a room. That way, anything you eat and your lodging is paid for and you have savings on the side.'

I blinked. When Clary said she would make me a deal, I hadn't realised it would be this good. In fact, it was ideal. And then I remembered.

I was a ghost. I couldn't stay here, he'd find me. I couldn't let that happen. Not again. I could not go through that again. Clary could see me hesitating and she leaned across the table, looking at me hard. 'Jace,' she said softly, 'I only want you to be safe from whatever it is you're running from. Even if it's just for a little while.'

I looked away from her, indescicion warring within me as my eyes fell on every little thing inside the cafe except for the green-eyed girl in front of me. The thought of a bed that didn't stab me in the back because all of the springs were broken and a room that didn't have rats in the walls and a job that not only took care of before mentioned pros, but let me save as well? It was like a dream come true.

But what about _him_? Could he find me?

And then I thought about it. The way both Magnus and Clary had been talking about the place, it was like it was a safe-house or something for screwed up kids like me. The thought definitely swayed me in Clary's favour.

And, of course, there it was. Clary. The girl who was planting all this doubt in my head in the first place. I sighed, shaking my head in disbelief to what it was I was about to agree to.

'Fine. You've got yourself a deal.' I said it before I could change my mind and I swear to god, I was so glad I did because the grin that stretched across Clary's face was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. It was infectious, and I found myself returning her grin, feeling as if a little bit of the weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

Just then, a group of people walked into the cafe. One was a boy, maybe my age, maybe a bit older with messy black hair and shockingly blue eyes. Next to him was a tall, curvy, beautiful girl with eyes and hair the colour of ink. In between them was small boy with a pair of wire glasses set slightly askew on his nose and a comic book clutched tightly against his skinny chest. It was obvious to anyone with a pair of working eyes that they were related.

The thing that caught my attention though was that the two older ones looked freakishly familiar to me. I just didn't know who they could be. The memory danced just out of grasp, slipping between the cracks. I frowned as the willowy girl caught Clary's eyes and began to make her way over to us, the youngest sibling trailing behind her.

'Clary!' she shouted from across the cafe, drawing the stares of other patrons. She didn't seem to care though and continued on her way, slipping in beside Clary, her gaze sliding over me.

She did an almost comical double-take, her head whipping back to me before Clary could get in a word. Once again, the feeling of familiarity was killing me. Where did I know these people? The girl's mouth hung open, her eyes narrowed and she launched herself over the table, grasping my face between her long fingers, so fast I didn't have time to jerk backwards, a look of disbelief and joy and shock all warring for space on her face.

_'Jace_!' She shouted, grasping my face even tighter, like she was afraid I would disappear or something. 'Jace Wayland _it's you_!' Without breaking her charcoal gaze from mine, she screamed, 'ALEC! Get your ass over here _NOW_!'

And with that name, I was finally able to get a hold of my memories and an image of this girl, six years younger rose up in my mind. She was a friend. She was a sister. She was another good thing in my life that had be torn from me.

_'Izzy_?'

The shock I was feeling roared through my ears, blocking out the sounds of Clary and the little boy and their stream of questions.

The Lightwoods. I had just found the Lightwoods.

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><p><em>Wow. Even I wasn't expecting that and I wrote it. I know I said in my last update that Jace had not yet met the Lightwoods, but, obviously, I lied. <strong>Solemnly-up-to-no-good<strong> asked in their review if Alec would show up anytime soon and then BAM, this little cliff-hanger spewed forth from my mind, through my fingers and onto my keyboard. Sorry about that...but not really, because I kinda like it :P So thank you, **Solemnly-up-to-no-good,** for your idea inspiring review :)_

_Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! They really do help me when I'm writing :)_

_Blue._


	4. Chapter 4

_Hello! I know its been forever since I have updated this story and I apologize for it! I still haven't got my old laptop fixed but I just thogt: screw it and wrote this up any way. Whic also means I'll also start work on Into Oblivian again soon :)_

**_DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Mortal Instruments Series, however, I do own the plot to this particular fanfiction ;)_**

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><p><em>'Izzy?'<em>

Jace's shocked voice was like a whip-crack through the silent room. Isabelle didn't seem to notice; she just nodded her head, still clutching Jace's face as if her life depended on it. Out of the corner of her eye Clary saw Alec start forward then just stop and stare, his mouth hanging open in shock. What the hell was going on?

Obviously, the rest of the cafe was thinking the same thing as knives and forks were held frozen in limbo, halfway between mouth and plate, the wait staff were standing still between tables, even Taki had come out of the kitchen, spatula in hand, to watch the drama unfold.

Clary slipped out from behind Isabelle, who was kneeling on the table and moved to crouch beside her and Jace.  
>'Izzy,' Clary said softly. 'Let Jace go.'<p>

Isabelle didn't move, but neither did Jace. They were like statues, their gaze never deviating from the other. Clary knew she'd have to snap them out of it somehow.

Slowly, she tried to pry Izzy's hands away from Jace's head but the other girl would not budge.  
>'It's you it's you it's you,' she whispered, over and over again until there was no breath between words, no pause.<p>

Clary stared at the two of them, utterly bewildered. Not knowing what to do, she placed a hand on both their shoulders, squeezing.

'Snap out of it, both of you,' she snapped in exasperation. At the sound of her sharp tone, it was as if a switch was flipped somewhere inside Jace.

He blinked once, then tore his face from Isabelle's hands, moving so fast from the booth her face nearly connected with the seat.

Jace stood by the table, his chest heaving. His gold eyes flicked between Isabelle and Clary and Alec and back again.  
>Clary took a single step closer, afraid he would take off.<p>

'Jace,' Clary said slowly, 'Why don't you come with me and we can settle this whole thing without an audience.' She gestured at their staring crowd. Jace's eyes took in the rapt faces of the cafe patrons and wait staff before his eyes locked once more with Clary's.

'I can't - ' he broke off and then - he was gone, just a gold and black blur tearing back through the cafe, towards the kitchen and out of sight. Three seconds later there was the loud slamming of a door. Shocked silence followed. Clary stared in the direction Jace had disappeared in, hoping he hadn't run away.

Taki was the first to recover.  
>'Alright!' he boomed. 'Show's over!'<p>

Immediately, everyone in the cafe, save the three teenagers and one small boy, went back to their respective activities. Clary turned to her two friends, their faces masks of shock.

'What do we do now?' Alec asked softly. Clary glanced at them both, her heart breaking at their distress.

'You three go down to the gym, I'll meet you in Luke's office.'  
>'With Jace?' Isabelle asked, straightening. Clary nodded, her mouth a thin, determined line before darting back through the cafe, following the same path Jace had tread not two minutes before.<p>

In the kitchen, she was met by a bemused looking Jordan.

'I'm guessing you're looking for your pretty boy?' He asked.

Clary, too stressed to acknowledge the jibe simply nodded.

'He went out there,' Jordan, whose forehead had creased when she had not risen to the bait, pointed to the purple door. Clary brushed past him, flinging the purple door open. Her eyes swept the empty parking lot, her heart sinking. She looked down in defeat, feeling unusually disappointed that the golden boy had split, when a pair of scuffed skate shoes caught her attention. Looking to her left she saw Jace, long legs stretched out in front of him, back pressed against the brick wall beside the purple door. He didn't look at her, and she felt a moment of uncertainty. Giving a little sigh, she stepped over his legs and sat beside him, mimicking his position.

'This isn't the first time you've run away, is it?' She asked him, knowing as soon as the words were out if her mouth that they were true.

Jace shook his head in affirmation.

'You met the Lightwoods the first time?'

He nodded.

'Are you going to come back inside?'

He shrugged.

Clary turned her head, watching his silent profile. A silver scar that curled down his temple caught her attention and she found herself staring at it. She looked back out at the parking lot, not wanting to be caught staring.

'I don't know what went on in there, Jace,' Clary said, unable to stop herself from looking at him again. 'But whatever it was, you need to sort it out because I have never seen Isabelle act like that. Ever. I mean, she's a total nutcase but she's usually very...contained. When she saw you, she lost it. You need to talk to them, please.'

Jace didn't speak, just continued to stare out over the parking lot, blind to Clary's eyes. She wanted to know what was going on inside his head, to understand. Of course, right now, Clary knew that was an impossibility.

A slight wind drifted over them, unusually cold for the time of day. Clary stood up slowly, moving to stand over Jace. She held out her hand to him.

'Come on,' She said, 'Let's go sort out this shiz.'

For the first time, Jace cracked a smile.

'The fact that you just said that lowered your respect bar about three points.' But he took her hand and let her haul him to his feet.

Clary just grinned and shook her head, realizing too late that she was still holding his hand. She dropped it quickly, shuffling back slightly to have more distance between them. Jace smirked that annoying smirk of his and turned towards the door. Clary was about to follow him when she froze, that hideous feeling of being watched slithering down her spine.

She turned slowly, green eyes scanning the parking lot slowly and methodically.

There was nobody there.

Fear began to unfurl in her stomach, mingled with paranoia. Was she going insane? Was it just after-effects of the...incident? It couldn't be, it happened years ago.

'Clary?' Jace's hand on her shoulder caused her to start and whip back around, eyes wide.

'You ok?' He asked, brow furrowing slightly in concern.

Clary plastered a smile on her face and nodded. The feeling stopped as she followed Jace back inside but she could not stop herself from glancing once more over her shoulder.

It was just an empty parking lot.

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><p><em>I know its short, but i really wanted to get it up. Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed, the next chapter should be up in a couple of days...hopefuly... :P<em>

_Review...please?_

_Blue._


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